


It Was Raining

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: American Politics, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Brexit, F/M, Fête Nationale, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Politics, Sleeping Together, Smoking, Some Humor, Sorry Not Sorry, Texting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 14:46:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7578211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was more than a few hours to separate them now.</p>
<p>Just a little story about unhappily dealing with politics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Was Raining

"Really, you should come. Just this once." He had sounded so dejected, like everything he looked over was suddenly bittersweet. It was the day before the Fête Nationale, and he was usually so lively and filled with such verve and love for living. Now, he was asking softly for a friend to come over and stay with him during the celebrations.  
It was 9 in the morning for Francis - 8 in the morning for Arthur. Francis went on, "It will be tasteful, not like America's... several interesting displays. I think. And it's just a quick train ride."  
"Yeah, but now I've got customs. And I've got to dig out my passport from wherever-"  
"Please. It's just a few hours from London to Paris."  
Arthur sat it silence a moment as he mulled it over. He was still in a mood from the relatively recent decision to leave the EU. He had wanted to stay. He had really wanted to stay. But the people chose against it. And he knew, but didn't want to know why.  
"I really should stay here, you know. I'm getting a hard time over here about the leave - and I just got off the phone with America - who was complaining again about 'oh, you blew it' and 'oh, you should have listened to John Oliver when you had the chance' as though it were my fault, and as though a comedian would decide international events and had authority - and America really should -"  
"I see. You're right," Francis said, "I hope leaving does you good."  
"Wait, is something actually wrong with you or -"  
"No. It's fine. Goodbye."  
When Francis disconnected, Arthur put down the phone. Tapping his fingers on the desk, he sighed, then got up to procure his book of shadows. He'd take a break for a moment.

It was raining when Arthur arrived in Paris. It was quite strange. The sky in some places was fully blanketed in a thick layer of rainclouds, but looking over a few blocks, the skies were blue and absolutely clear. Paris was wet, and cold, and divided in itself.  
It was raining when Arthur arrived at Francis' apartment. Arthur shook his umbrella to dry a bit when he got to the door, wiped his hands, and knocked.  
Francis got the door, a recently lit cigarette hanging low from his lips. His eyes brightened a bit when he saw his friend.  
"Come in, come i- "  
"You're smoking again? I thought you'd kicked the habit. Stop it." Arthur stepped inside, throwing his umbrella into its bin without looking, setting down his bag by the door.  
"Non." Francis stepped aside as Arthur tried to grab the cigarette from his mouth.  
"Come on - you're even inside. Spit it out."  
"Non." Francis replied, sidestepping the other man and locking the door.  
Arthur sighed. "Fine," Arthur said as he turned back to him. Arthur placed his hand on Francis' shoulder, stopping him. He continue, "But at least get me one of the buggers."  
"The pack is just in the other room."  
"I want this one." Arthur quickly snatched the cigarette out of Francis' mouth, and snuffed it out on the ashtray next to the lamp on a small nearby stand.  
"Fine."  
"I'm not letting you slip back into it. That's not what you're after and you know it," Arthur replied.  
"Well. That, I know. But it distracts me, and I want that right now."  
"What the bloody hell is wrong with you today?"  
Francis looked at his guest for a moment, searching for good words.  
"Do you remember what I told you once, not long after the breakout of the Great War?" Francis asked.  
"You told me a lot of things. It was a war. You'll have to be more specific. What do you mean?"  
Francis led Arthur to the dimly lit living room. The two sat down on a small brown sofa in the middle of the room. On either side was a table with books stacked on top - novels, mostly, but some others as well. Francis sat down on one end, next to the table Arthur realized had a small silver lighter on it. He sat down at the other end of the couch.  
"I told you that I felt, for the first time in years, sincerely lonely. Even surrounded with plans, surrounded by allies, surrounded by this will to fight, I was filled with this utter feeling of dread."  
"I remember. But you were so filled with fire. We all were. We were all ready to fight for ourselves and honor and glory. That was a weird day to see you like that. It was sudden."  
"Not for me. I had gotten to thinking that if the war were to drag on, I'd be seriously hurt. My people would be seriously hurt. The land would be scorched and it would take a while to rebuild."  
"Ye. Bummer."  
"And I started thinking now - not about a war, yet - but I think something is going to happen tonight. Well, tomorrow night, I mean."  
"Francis, are you just being cynical again? I came all this way for more of your moodiness?"  
"Yes, but you came. You decided to come."  
Arthur rested his head on the back of the sofa, turning more towards his friend.  
"So what do you want to do about it, then? What can you do?"  
Francis turned more towards Arthur and replied, "We both know the only answer we have to questions like that in situations like these, is 'nothing.'"  
Arthur tapped his fingers on the armrest and lazily gave Francis a light kick on the leg. He looked away and said, after a moment, "That's all we ever get to say."  
They sat together, each other's presence calming, but still a reminder of the increasingly strange times. They sat, thinking of now, thinking of before, distracting themselves from after. Suddenly, Francis shifted his weight and said, "Come here."  
Arthur grumbled but complied, eventually leaning on the other man. Francis pulled him closer, and the two sat, loosely holding each other.  
"Why invite you here if you will just stay far like that?" Francis asked. After a pause, he continued, "Something big is coming. Something big, something bad, something I do not want to see again. Can't you feel it?"  
"Are you talking about tomorrow? You think there's going to be an attack, don't you? Haven't you been preparing for something like this? It's a real possibility but I doubt something will slip past that many defenses, considering you already thought to prepare. And -"  
"It's not just that. But I always doubt it's enough."  
"So what is it? Get on with it. A terrorist attack? A coup? Violent power struggles? What?"  
Francis held his tongue. He wanted to get back to banter and bickering, to something more normal. But there must have been something - in the stars, in the water - just something that kept him wondering, that kept him quiet.  
"Do you not think it is funny? You have to ask me what I'm worried for. At this point, it could be many things. Many, many things."  
"Stop saying 'funny' when you mean to say 'tragic'. You keep doing that. It's not funny. It's sad."  
Francis pulled his friend closer, resting his hands on Arthur's shoulders.  
"I find it kind of funny. I find it kind of sa- "  
"Oh, shut your bloody face."  
Arthur slapped his friend's hands off. Francis cracked a smile. He stood up and said, "Well, what is the purpose of sitting around, complaining? Come. Have a coffee with me."  
"That's it, then? A coffee and some chatter?" Arthur asked. Francis could note some sincere concern in his question, behind the large front of sass.  
"Of course. Life's troubles can be set aside, if just for some time for some coffee."

"Is your guest bed made already or should I do that now?"  
The day had grown dark, and most of the clouds had passed in this area.  
"If you want to choose the bed sheets, you can," Francis rolled his eyes.  
As Arthur was wrapping up, he realized he had received a flurry of texts. He had put his personal, non-work phone to airplane mode a day or so ago and forgot about it. Most were from none other than the July 4th twat. And also a message from the maple kid. He read that one first.

Hi please control the wart he's saying he wants to move to Canada if BS doesn't become pres wait no now it's some Jillenstein person and I'm confused and it's stressful and I just want to sleep and please send help thank you - M  
PS he is spamming me on snapchat please stop this madness please please please okay thank you bye and have a nice day stay hydrated bye  
[3:57 AM, their time]

"Do they not sleep? The kids are not alright," Arthur remarked to himself. "Great. What's the other one saying?"

What's pepper spray cost at Tesco? - #1 [12:36 AM, their time]  
Wait, can you buy some there? I'm joining the riots in Baltimore so I'm stockpiling, ya feel? -#1  
[12:38 AM, their time]  
Why am i white like honestly i never got that -1  
[12:41 AM, their time]  
Do you have spray tanners at the ready cause i wanna do a drumpf cosplay -1  
[12:41 AM, their time]  
Wait no i dont im just kinda sad tbh like its work to burn an effigy  
[12:41 AM, their time]  
I mean  
[12:42 AM, their time]  
Like i have the effigy and ferret wig ready but i made it out of a sac of corn among other things so its not orange but it has to be so like ????  
[12:42 AM, their time]  
I gotta run to the store  
[12:43 AM, their time]  
I have like 5 cans of orange spray paint  
[1:13 AM, their time]  
I didn't go to the store  
[1:13 AM, their time]  
I think i inhaled the equivalent of like a quarter can of spray paint but it's fucking done. This shit is orange af  
[1:48 AM, their time]  
Is there a spell to rig an election cause i think $hillary found one so is there like a countercurse or ??  
[1:51 AM, their time]  
Wait no what if this doesn't work  
[1:54 AM, their time]  
I mean the thing is burning like i set that shit on fire using red white and blue fucking fireworks but like the burning  
[1:55 AM, their time]  
Maybe I can vacation somewhere for like 4 years  
[1:55 AM, their time]  
But like maybe somewhere close  
[1:56 AM, their time]  
Not Mexico tho or i might get nuked so like meh maybe not that great what else  
[1:58 AM, their time]  
Maybe ill ask matty  
[1:58 AM, their time]  
WAIT  
[1:58 AM, their time]  
I just realized my snap story is like 50 snaps long holy shit i gotta chill amirite  
[2:02 AM, their time]  
Check my fucking snap story you never fucking check it  
[2:53 AM, their time]  
I've got solid gold on there its like fort fucking knox man  
[2:54 AM, their time]  
Come on just check it i want my snap score to be higher than matties already  
[2:54 AM, their time]

This continued until about 3:47 AM, their time. Arthur scoffed, and turned airplane mode on again.  
"He must pay a fortune for his data plan. Note to self: I have more of a life than these children, so I'll allow myself a drink. Or five."  
"Having fun?"  
Arthur jumped slightly, having been engrossed in this strange story.  
"No! Were you spying- "  
"You are my guest, in my house. That makes it not spying. I am making sure you are fine," Francis teased.  
"Ah, taking a note from America, I see," Arthur replied.  
"And I thought I was moody today," Francis said, leaning in the doorway.  
"Everyone's got problems recently. So, you know, same old, same old," Arthur told him.  
"I did not invite you into my own home to remind me of my duties on the one day I have off."  
"Don't you have tomorrow off, too?"  
Francis paused, and hurriedly said, "Yes, but that is besides the point."  
Arthur continued, "Then get on with it."  
Francis entered the room, walking to his friend. "You knew this would come."  
"I knew," Arthur said, as Francis wrapped his arms around his waist, as he seemed to take the bait, cradling Francis's head in his hand "But I also know this isn't what you actually want."  
"Do you think I do not know that? I just want a distraction. You are a great distraction," Francis said, "and you always have been."  
"I know. Get some rest, Francis."  
Francis turned and left.  
"Good night," he said, closing the door behind him. "I'll be going. I won't be coming back soon."  
Arthur checked the clock. Past 11.  
"Good night."

The next morning, Arthur awoke to his third consecutive alarm. He was quite shocked he'd slept through the other two, and scrambled to check up on the news. Not much had happened, though, granted, it was 4:30 in the morning.  
He set up his computer, and started filing through emails. A solid chunk of them were angry, asking him why he left so suddenly. The majority were just regular, work related.  
He went about his business, answering some complaints curtly and with a little "KBO" as a sign off. It was a bad habit, and an old one. He liked it.  
He usually sat for a few hours like that until he got hungry enough to eat his usual breakfast, but today, he was interrupted by the front door opening.  
He left his computer open and running. Arthur silently crept through the halls, trying to hear if his host was alone. Upon hearing more silence, broken by sullen dragging of feet, Arthur sped to the only other person in the apartment.  
"Francis!" he called out. "Good morning."  
"Hm. Good morning. I forgot you woke up so early. I forgot you were even here."  
"I doubt that. Oh, yeah, happy birthday."  
"Right," Francis spat out, "Thanks."  
Arthur continued making obnoxious conversation as Francis settled in again. He noticed his once pressed, clean shirt was now substantially wrinkled, Francis hadn't even bothered putting his belt back on, and he looked quite tired and uninterested in everything.  
"Back so soon?" Arthur continued. I was expecting you to last a little longer, honestly, but I guess I w-"  
"You were right, I admit it. Now please be quiet and let me sleep," Francis grumbled. "I wanted to forget. I did. But it's back now and it's worse."  
Arthur followed Francis up to his bedroom, helping his drowsy friend find his way, half asleep in the dark, knowing he didn't need any help, and that he'd done this more than enough times before to know his way around like this.  
"Couldn't sleep, huh, Francis?" Arthur asked, pulling up the covers.  
The immediately recognizable smell of alcohol wafted up. "I couldn't sleep. I escaped."  
"'Escaped'?" Arthur laughed.  
"I escaped," he broke a small smile. "I couldn't stop thinking. I knew nothing would happen if I stayed, so I left. Now shut up and let me sleep."  
"I told you so."  
Francis shoved Arthur's face away, decidedly ungracefully. "Shut up and let me sleep. What did you not understand? Please."  
Arthur paused, looking over the tired figure now curled up in a thin extra skin of blanket, a figure whose tired eyes were now shut tightly, as though holding in thoughts that might otherwise escape and become real.  
Arthur sighed, slowly caressing now-messy blond hair. "Move over, Francis."  
Arthur soon found himself curled up beside Francis, holding him tight, listening and waiting for that heartbeat to just calm down, for his friend to just fall fast into the placid depths of slumber. He listened to the short hums of Francis's breaths slowly relax. Before long, the two were dreaming.


End file.
